


Sylvan Dread

by darklittlestories



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: BDSM, Blood, Bottom Loki (Marvel), Brief blood play, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Dark Thor (Marvel), Drug Use, Extreme haunts, Halloween, Haunted Trail, Light Masochism, Light Sadism, M/M, Mention of polyamory, Outdoor Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with minimal Plot, Stranger Sex, primal play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-10 03:07:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16462202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darklittlestories/pseuds/darklittlestories
Summary: Loki and his partners are on a decadent exploration of extremes this October, culminating in the world's most most frightening haunted trail. Something is waiting there...





	Sylvan Dread

**Author's Note:**

> It is upon us!!! HAPPY HALLOWEEN & Blessed Samhain! Here's some un-beta'd dirty sexy forest porn! 
> 
> Come find my goofy rants, obsessive drawings, & bipolar overshares on Tumblr @darklittlestories. <3

Chilly October air bit through the layers of their clothing as they huddled together under the rigged up lights. Loki’s pulse quickened every time the three of them moved. 

Thick cloud cover obscured a full moon and cast a haze over everything.

Darcy opened her vintage clutch (acquired in Paris last week) and powdered her nose, then picked a capsule out of an inner pocket. She placed it primly on her tongue, then grabbed Loki by the nape of his neck. She licked into his mouth and fed him the pill, making a delicious little “mmm” as she finished her filthy kiss.    
  
Loki smirked at their staring neighbors when she repeated the show with Tony. The second act gave them a bigger eyeful: Tony ran his hands over the hourglass of her hips and then grazed her breast as she pulled away. When the crowd shuffled forward, she laced her fingers through each of the boys’ hands and pulled them with her.

The line was bullshit long this time of night, but their trio lived and died by the rule of being fashionably late. Plus the wait gave Darcy ample time to stream her Facebook Live update.

The racing little fear of getting caught dropping pills thrilled through Loki. He leaned in to whisper to Darce, “What’d you give us, D?” 

She laughed and kissed the tip of his nose. “Dickinson.”

“Ooh. Fantastic, babe.”

This was their code for ecstasy, invented while rolling, naturally. Emily Dickinson was Em Dee, as in MDMA. They were highly clever on Dickinson.

Their month-long Halloween adventure was coming to an explosive climax in the middle of of nowhere in Vestfold County, Norway. Tony was footing the bill (do  _ not _  make the mistake of correcting him and saying it was actually his father’s dime) for a celebration of extreme thrills that hadn’t originally been intended to go international.

The morning after their midnight skydive Darce had been double-checking their flight plans to Ohio and Loki had been bored. He’d already showered and done his eyes and he and Tony’d lotioned each other’s new tattoos, then Loki had done Darcy’s tattoo while she pulled up the airline’s site.

While she clicked through line after line checking boxes, Loki had looked up their haunted tour. “The Most Extreme Haunted House Experience in the United States!” He’d read through testimonials of pants-shitting terror and tried to ignore the itching of the tattoo crawling up his spine. Then it had suddenly hit him—the most extreme haunt _  in the states _ —and he got curious. When he googled “most extreme haunt in the world” he found the place near Larvik in Norway.

He’d casually mentioned to Tony that the most frightening haunt in the  _ world _  was supposedly a trail outside a town in Norway.

“Cancel that flight, Darce,” Tony had said. “We’re going to Norway.”

Then, since they were leaving the States anyway, Loki had pouted at Tony and batted beautifully made-up lashes and gushed about how he’d always dreamed of touring the Parisian catacombs and strolling through Père Lachaise so they’d caught a red-eye from Miami and boom—Europe.

* * *

The line nudged forward a few paces and a girl with streaks of black in her pale side-shaved hair approached them with clipboards and pens. She was really pretty. Loki was entranced by the curve of her lips and the shine of her snakebite piercings.   
  
“Lollipop, you’re drooling,” Tony breathed against his neck. It made all the hairs on Loki’s body stand up and he could feel each one shiver. 

“She’s yummy,” Loki said, turning his head. Tony reached up and kissed him.

“Disclaimer forms,” the girl said, handing them each a clipboard. “Please tell me if you have questions,” she said. The boys pulled apart and concentrated on their respective papers.

Loki initialed items as he read. Most of it was standard stuff like they’d seen at other houses and trails: * _ You may experience some or all of the following sensory deprivations or extremes: low or no light, flashing or strobing light; low or no sound, extremely loud sound* _ … but there were some items that he wasn’t sure of. Could you even legally consent to all of this?

The attendant spotted Darcy’s phone and told her she couldn’t photograph the consent form or take stills or video of anything past the sign-in tent. 

Eventually the winding queue brought them close enough to read the wooden sign. “ Ódr Skog” in large letters, then beneath that, in English, “Sylvan Dread.”

He’d looked it up before. It wasn’t an exact translation, so it was like there were two names for the attraction: The Frenzied Forest, or Fear of Woodlands. He loved both. They made him think of Dionysos’ wild maenads eating the flesh of those who trespassed on their decadent rituals. They didn’t use Norwegian, either, but Old Norse. Going for a Viking or black metal feel, he guessed. 

Finally they made it to the check-in tent, where they traded their phones and stuff for keyrings on wristbands with miniature LED flashlights that had GPS chips that activated if you lit them. They got a final lecture about the boundaries of the ‘environment’ (marked with subtle blacklights) and a reminder that if they used their flashlights they’d be immediately located and removed from the ‘environment.’ 

Then they were set free.

* * *

By silent agreement, the three of them ran off separately. 

Loki stopped after a short while, his gaping pupils taking in the ancient trees and dashing figures of the rest of the small group that had been admitted. 

“We’re initiates,” he thought. 

The others ran in all directions, leaving shadowy tracers behind them like a smoky spiderweb. 

He stared, dazzled, at the pattern they made, the lacy crisscrossing trees and the wispy webbing afterimages combining under a hazy sky. 

Then something grabbed his ankle hard and he was pulled to the ground. He only just got his hands out to keep his face from planting in the dirt, but the fall knocked the wind out of him. He gasped and sputtered as the grip on his ankle moved to his calf and he was dragged, his hair trailing in the pebbles and pine needles. 

Then the hand was on his shin, and he could feel it warm and huge through his leggings. Fear shot through him. Then another hand had his other calf and he had no purchase to try to crawl away and the first hand was on his thigh, skirting high and curving toward the inside of his leg and he screamed — and it let go and he turned back and nothing was there.

Then he was running and running and there was a hill and his lungs were searing as he climbed it. 

He stopped halfway up and bent over, gripping his knees as a stitch tore through his ribcage. 

He was alert and panicky, eyes skimming the ground for reaching hands and still feeling the ghost of that hand on his calf, on his thigh. That big hand nearly encircling his leg. 

He’d loved the size of that hand, hadn’t he? Someone that large could break him. His rapid breath faltered with exhilaration.

He looked around, but he could only see pines and aspens and thick brush he couldn’t identify in the dark. He hiked farther up the hill, and then he could hear something. 

It was a low, ominous sound, barely audible. He walked on, and it grew louder. Almost a melody. Deep, minor chords. It resolved into human voices. Chanting. 

He crested the hill and at the top, like living crenellations on a black castle, figures stood in a circle around a fire. 

He crept closer, as silently as he could, expecting all the time to be caught by the foot or the arm, but he was left unmolested. 

The glow of the flames illuminated the people in greater detail now, and he could see naked forms and robed ones and hear the words of the chant, though it made no difference to his ears. It was no language he’d ever heard. The syllables and tones became a haunting, oppressive pattern to his ears, and the dancing firelight seemed to be of a piece with the music. 

He had lost his sense of time to the drug far back before the dense forest, but at some point the song grew fervent and undulating. The people moved to make way for something, then a group of newcomers arrived. They were carrying something… Loki heard screaming.

His stomach sank. The object they bore was the size of a small man. He opened his mouth on a shriek but a heavy hand clamped over it.

Another hand clamped onto his throat.

Thick, large hands, wide and long and strong enough to break him.

Loki’s heart hammered like a rabbit’s in a snare.

* * *

He was dragged away from the gathering at the fire to a deeply shadowed copse of trees.

“Were you enjoying our show?” asked a low, rumbling voice. It made Loki think of the distant thunder of a threatening storm.

Loki didn’t even try to answer. The hand was still on his mouth, the other at his throat. He brought his hands up and pulled in vain at the huge fist around his throat.

The man laughed. Brontide in his ear. Warm and intimate. He squeezed just a little harder.

“I can feel your pulse,” he told Loki. “Like a little rabbit, so fast.”

Loki tried to scream, or protest, or anything. When he opened his mouth, a thick finger went in. 

“Mm. My little rabbit.”

The man squeezed harder on his throat.

In the dark, Loki could see stars. 

Loki’s cock went hard in a dizzying rush and he panted against the hand. His tongue was wet and slick on the finger. It tasted of salt and his mouth flooded.

“I think you like this, little rabbit. Do you like it?” He removed his finger and wiped the saliva on Loki’s cheek.

“Yeah,” Loki whispered.

The hand that was not on his throat moved down Loki’s body. It stole its way beneath his clothes and exposed him to the cold air, lifting his shirt to find a nipple and squeezing hard.

Loki arched back, and his rucked up shirt scratched his new tattoo. He groaned in half-pain.

The man liked it. He pushed his bulging crotch against the seam of Loki’s leggings. 

“Come with me, rabbit.”

He took a thick handful of Loki’s hair and pulled him along. He was Loki’s height or taller, it seemed, because Loki wasn’t bent over as he was dragged. And oh, he liked the feel of that hand on his neck so much. 

They walked a long way, and eventually Loki could see faint violet lights like ominous will o’ the wisps. They bobbed and wobbled, just visible in the darkness, and he wasn’t sure if they were real until they drew nearer and he realized they must be the blacklights delineating the edge of the environment. 

“If we cross this line, it’s real, little rabbit. You belong to me.” He jerked Loki’s head close, so Loki could his voice vibrate against his ear. 

“Do you want that, sweetheart? Do you want to be mine?”

Loki couldn’t  _ breathe _ for how much he needed to say yes. It caught in his throat, like a nightmare scream. 

“Tell me,” the strong man whispered in his ear. “Will you cross over with me?”

Loki gulped in air and swallowed and at last he said, “Yes.”

The man took his hand and they walked between the dark violet lights and for a moment that lasted for hours, Loki marveled that light could be dark violet.

* * *

 

He was hearing a voice from faraway.

Then laughter, and a big hand tipped his face upward.

“What are you on, Little Rabbit?”

“Oh? Um… Dickinson. Molly, I mean. Rolling on molly I think. She might’ve thrown some acid in it.”

“She? Is your ‘She’ gonna come looking for you?”

“No,” Loki laughed. “We have rules. I think it’s way too soon for them to worry. I think.”

“Good.” 

The man shoved Loki against the thick trunk of a tree and nudged his thigh between Loki’s. 

The tree bark stung Loki’s tattooed back. He cried out and pushed his swelling groin against the muscled thigh holding him in place.

The huge hand covered his throat again and he moaned at the warm pressure.

“You love this, don’t you?”

Loki groaned.

His head snapped hard with a  _ crack _  sound and he saw stars again. 

His face burned as hot as shame where he’d been slapped.

“Answer me. Do you love this, rabbit?”

“Yes! Yes, I do. I’m sorry, ah, I’m sorry…” Loki pushed against that thigh, so warm, so good. His cock was leaking. 

The man laughed. “You are so sweet, you know that? I love hearing you say ‘yes’ to me. I’m gonna make you scream it. And I want to hear my name in that pretty voice. I’m gonna make you howl my name when you come.”

The clouds shifted, and the moon shone on them like a spotlight. 

Loki saw the man’s face properly and thought he would die. He was so beautiful. Light hair and eyes that somehow looked friendly and menacing at the same time.

“Tell me your name. Please?”

“Suck my cock first, pretty thing.”

Loki sank obediently to his knees, and the beautiful man peeled off his shirt, scraping over his raw, sensitive skin.

“Really nice ink. How new?” He spoke conversationally now, as he unbuttoned his jeans.   
  
“Two days. Thank you,” Loki answered. 

“Oh, so fresh. Delicate.” He was bare beneath his jeans, and he drew out his cock.

Loki thrilled at the look of it, as thick and long as the rest of him. The man hooked his thumbs into Loki’s mouth and stretched his jaw wide. He ran the thumbs over Loki’s tongue, and he couldn’t help licking at them like a kitten. 

Then his mouth was stuffed with flesh—satiny, hot, and wet. He thrusted in and out hard and fast, and Loki’s mouth was full of salt and musk.

A hand threaded into his hair and pulled tight, and the cock pushed deeper. Loki opened wide, and let it in, felt the smooth tip bump urgently at the back of his throat. 

The other hand squeezed his neck, and he heard his blood rushing in his ears and he went dizzy. The thrusting sped up and it was so good, the cold earth under his knees and the hot pressure building in his head and he couldn’t breathe and he was  _ weightless _ .

Then it was all gone and he was pulled to his feet. He blinked, forlorn. 

“It’s Thor,” the man said, a lazy smile lighting up his teeth. “Say it.”   
  
“Thor,” Loki said breathlessly. He would have the name of a god.  
  
“Good.” Thor said, and pulled Loki in close to him and nuzzled Loki’s face with a scratchy-soft beard.   
  
“Do you want a kiss, little rabbit?”

“Yes… Thor. Please.”   
  
Thor kissed him with his full, soft lips and his delving tongue and Loki felt like a night blooming flower for him. He moaned into Thor’s mouth and melted against him as Thor’s hands gripped him at the waist and made the muscles in his abdomen flutter.

Then Thor dug his fingers in harder, and harder still and Loki could see the violet grey of the bruises they would leave. Thor broke the kiss just enough to chuckle against Loki’s lips. 

“You like when I hurt you, don’t you, rabbit?”

“Yes, Thor.”

“Do you want more, pretty thing?” He pressed in, and Loki could feel the sharp ends of Thor’s fingernails.

“Ahh! Yes!”

“Give me your name now.”

“Loki.”

“Loki,” Thor whispered like a spell word, like a claim. “Loki, my Loki. I want to mark you. Can I have your skin, too?”

“Yes,” Loki said. 

He could answer nothing else.

Thor ran his fingernails in deep scratches up Loki’s back and it tore through finely inked lines. 

Loki let loose a wail and Thor didn’t ask if he wanted it when he pushed Loki’s leggings down and roughly turned him around.

He didn’t ask when he put his hand between Loki’s legs and stroked the seam of his ass and fingered his hole. 

Didn’t ask when he bent down and tongued him deep and dirty. Loki just arched his back and held himself open, letting Thor wet him with his mouth as blood made tiny, burning pools on his back and the stars pricked at his eyes like needles of light.

Thor pulled Loki down then, and everything was darkness and mud. He was on his hands and knees in the damp earth.

Thor thrust himself inside in one violent stab and started pistoning his hips hard and fast. Loki fucked himself onto Thor, throwing his weight back in hard counterpoint to meet Thor’s, their flesh beating an obscene rhythm.

Thor moaned and grunted like a rutting beast, hands wrapped tight onto Loki’s pelvic bones and Loki thought, this is what we are:  _ animal bones crushing together in pleasure and pain and blood and earth under the stars and it is so beautiful _ and Thor started to moan in a high, plaintive pitch and he grabbed Loki’s hair like reins and Loki braced himself.

Thor bucked so hard when he came Loki’s knees stuttered in the mud. He could feel the spend rush deep, deep inside him. So much of it and so hot. 

It felt right and good and satisfied a primal course plotted out for him by the stars and the cold black forest. 

He shivered on all fours as Thor pulled out and rose to his feet. The crisp air was soothing to his harrowed skin.

Thor pulled up his dark, grubby jeans and helped Loki to his feet. He enveloped him in impossibly warm arms and rumbled into his ears as he dressed him too.

“Such a sweet little catch… little rabbit. Did you like that?”

Loki felt a bit lost now, in the aftermath. He was rattled and dazed. “Y-yes, Thor.”

Thor petted his face and hair. “So good.”    
  
It did feel good, the heat in his touch and the feeling of being looked after. Loki leaned in, nuzzling against Thor’s soft, cropped beard. 

Something warm and bright sparked to life inside him. He whimpered quietly when Thor cupped his chin and tilted his face for a kiss. 

He mumbled against Loki’s lips, “Take care of you, Rabbit,” and his hand crept inside Loki’s leggings. He stroked him fully hard and Loki tucked his head into his shoulder and Thor held him affectionately and steadily rubbed and pulled him, coaxing him with his hand and affectionate words.

“Yes, good, Loki. So sweet and good for me… make you feel good my little one, yes, yes, come for me, just like that, yes, yes.” 

Loki shook with the trees above them and pulsed over Thor’s hand, crying out against his neck as Thor held onto him.  

Loki was pliant and drowsy as Thor wrapped him up in his leather coat. It smelled masculine and spicy and still held a lot of Thor’s heat.

Thor let him lean against him as his breathing and heartbeat returned to normal. The world was dark and clouded again and there was a cozy, insular feeling. It felt like time and space were suspended. Only Thor and Loki existed, only for now.

But eventually, reluctantly, he dressed himself. Thor took his hand and led him back through the faintly luminous blacklights. Loki’s throat constricted with the threat of tears and he pushed it away, embarrassed. He’d had encounters with countless men and women. This was no different, interesting location excepted. His chin jutted out with a haughty, defiant air as they approached the check-in. 

They hadn’t spoken a word, but Loki just now realized Thor hadn’t let go of his hand. 

He spotted Tony and Darcy, talking dramatically for her camera as she updated her devoted followers. He heard snatches of a story about a human sacrifice and thought, “Oh, of course,” but lost the thread.

He couldn’t think through the fog of inexplicable sadness that had settled over him. 

Thor had wandered off when Loki saw his partners, but he returned now, hands in his pockets. He was still beautiful, still golden under the harsh glare of the lights under the tent.

“I picked up your things.”   
  
“Oh. Um, thanks,” Loki said, staring at the ground.

Thor stepped in and pulled Loki to him. “Your number is in my phone now, Loki.”   
  
The stars burst into life inside Loki. “Oh?”    
  
Thor tipped his face up and they kissed sweetly, big, searching hands gripping Loki’s hips.

“Damn. I didn’t know there were prizes on the trail, Loki!” Darcy pouted, sidling up to them.    
  
“Hey, darling. This is Thor.”   
  
“Yes, he _ is. _ ” Darcy said.    
  
Thor looked her up and down, and she appraised him over her glasses.    
  
“Thor, this is Darcy, my thirsty best friend and kinky sex partner. Oh, Tony! Come meet Thor,” Loki said, as Tony joined them.

They shook and Thor kissed Darcy’s hand.   
  
Tony made a gesture encompassing their little group. “So this. Is this happening? Because I vote that this happens. Soon, often, and in as many positions and places as possible. I’m in. Who’s in?”

Thor chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder. He leaned in and stage whispered, “Loki has my number.”

He steered Loki away from the group for a last, private farewell. They kissed again, deep and long with both of Thor’s hands tugging his hair. 

“Be good for me, Little Rabbit.”   
  
“Yes, Thor.”


End file.
